


Undisclosed Desires

by Midnight_Ophelia



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Domestic, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Drama, Loki Has Issues, M/M, Prostitute Loki (Marvel), Rewrite, Sex Work, Tony gets in over his head, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-04 15:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10282307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Ophelia/pseuds/Midnight_Ophelia
Summary: From the moment Loki walked into his life, Tony should have known that things were about to get complicated.Bedroom Hymns Rewrite





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, long time no see. Have I missed anything important? 
> 
> This rewrite has been a long time coming and hopefully this time it'll stay up. I'm sure some of you are probably wondering why I'm rewriting what is by far my most popular fic and the answer is pretty simple. When I look back at the original version I can't help but feel dissatisfied with a few of the choices I made. The grammar leaves something to be desired, I accidently retconned a plot point (oops), and overall I feel like my characterization could be better, especially now that we've gotten more movies. 
> 
> With those things in mind, I decided that I could do better this time around. For those of you who are wondering, yes, I plan on keeping the original version up. I don't want to, but when I mentioned wanting to rewrite Bedroom Hymns on my tumblr, people demanded that I keep it up so up it stays. 
> 
> With that I leave you to the first chapter. Sorry for such a lengthly note.

If he knew what was going to happen he might have been a little more enthusiastic (or hesitant) about crawling out of bed.

It was a well-known fact that Tony Stark didn't do mornings, not if he had any real say in it at any rate. If he just so happened to be up when the sun came creeping over the horizon it was only because he had been up all night anyhow and so to his brain, it didn't really count. When it came to work-related things -in the instance that he absolutely must be there in person- he'd inevitably show up to whatever meeting with the board of directors or interview far later than the intended time frame, and, because he was who he was, there wasn't a whole lot they can do about it.

Which was why he was surprised that he volunteered to out and get coffee for Pepper at the new cafe not far from Stark Tower before the clock had even hit the double digits. Truth be told, he probably could have just had someone bring it to them instead, but for whatever reason he opted to just do it himself, yawning wide enough to pop his jaw and scrubbing a hand over his eyes. He really had to question his sanity at that moment as he struggled out of his pajamas and into something more presentable before half-staggering out to living room to find Pepper already sitting on the couch, looking refreshed and not at all like it was only eight in the morning.

“Are you sure that you wouldn't rather have I do it?” she asked, taking in his Night of the Living Dead reenactment with affectionate exasperation. “I wouldn't want you to pass out on the street.”

“I said that I'd do it,” Tony replied, waving off her concern with an airy dismissiveness that had Pepper frowning at him. Walking his happy ass down a few blocks for a drink was the least he could do to make up for everything lately. That everything being their recent break-up. It had been under mutual understanding but that didn't mean that it didn't cause a level of awkwardness during their interactions.

“Fine, but if something comes up let me know.” Pepper stood, walked over to him, and gave him a small kiss on his cheek.

She was his assistant and his friend. He couldn't just fire her to avoid his own discomfort. He was an asshole, but he wasn't that kind of an asshole.

Tony left and walked the relatively short distance to The Bean, dressed in a pair of jeans, boots, and an old AC/DC concert tee worn beneath a jacket and wondering how his life had gotten to that point. He stared at the door for a moment before shrugging. The building itself was made from a combination of dark wood, silver metal, and crisp frosted glass, giving it a modern vibe that Tony could appreciate as he pushed the door open, sending the little bell above the door ringing cheerfully. The smell of fresh coffee and pasties that filled his nose made his mouth water. At the sound of the bell, a brunette standing behind the counter looked up at him with a wide grin and a wave of a hand.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” she greeted him, making the other patrons standing in the line turn around to look at Tony with varying levels of curiosity. “What brings you here so early?”

“This is a coffee shop, isn't it?” Tony said with an eye roll behind his sunglasses. Being stared at was nothing new to him.

“Obviously.” Darcy turned her attention back to taking orders and once the last of them had been taken care of, for the time being, she said to him with bright, knowing grin, “ Did Pepper send you?”

Tony wasn't surprised that she came to that conclusion. Darcy Lewis had interned for a short while at the company before she switched to intern under a friend and had gotten to bear witness to all sorts of shenanigans, the sort of shenanigans that was scar someone for life.

“Actually no, believe it or not, I'm here because I want to be.”

“Well, color me surprised.” Darcy pushed her glasses up with a finger and leaned her arms on the counter, suddenly all business. “What'll you have, then, Mr. Stark?”

He ordered a coffee for himself and a strawberry-less fruit tea for Pepper, throwing in a blueberry scone as an afterthought, then headed to a table near the door to lounge at until they come up. He got more looks as he did so and he gave them a little smile and a nonchalant wave, flipping through pages on his tablet and chuckling to himself as they began whispering amongst themselves excitedly. Tony let the sounds of chatter, music, and the clanking of working baristas wash over him while he waited. They made him feel even more drowsy but it was peaceful. He hummed along with a song playing through the speakers until the jingle of the bell pulled his eyes towards the door where he blinked behind his sunglasses.

The individual was, well, truly something, Tony thought, trying to take him in without coming off as a creeper. The guy was tall (mostly made up of mile-long legs) and on the thin side, but the sort of thin that was fit, not unhealthy, and somewhere in his early thirties. His face was handsome, one with regal features that was all sharp angles and framed by slightly wavy, inky black hair that was long enough to brush past his shoulders. Piercing emerald green eyes sitting beneath well-groomed brows scanned the room with aloofness but paused on Tony and thin lips twitched in what Tony thought might have been amusement.

What was so damn funny?

Tony watched as the tall, dark, stranger sauntered up to the counter and ordered something that he couldn't hear from where he was sitting. He considered going up and talking to him, getting his name and possibly a cell number. It had been a long time since someone could walk into a room and immediately get his attention. That was something worth noting.

“Oh, why the hell not.” It was worth a shot. Tony rose to his feet, approached, and hoped that his charms work in his favor. He sidled up near the man and cast him a winning smile.“You should try the scones. I heard that they're heavenly.”

A brow raised on the stranger's face and he was definitely smirking. When he spoke it was with a decidedly English accent that Tony didn't expect. “Are they? Well, then, I'm glad that I ordered one.”

“Hey, Tony, your order's up,” Darcy called over to him, setting down two cups and a small white bag with his own scone. Speak of the devil.

“Have you ordered one as well?” the man asked, looking at the bag.

“Sure did. Blueberry.” Were they really having a conversation about scones? He must have been out of practice. He held out a hand. “Tony Stark, although I have a feeling that you've figured that out already.”

“Loki,” he replied, taking Tony's hand in a surprisingly firm grip. “And I may have. Your presence is rather difficult to miss.”

Now it was Tony's turn to raise an eyebrow. “Loki? That's a strange name.”

“I shall alert my parent,” Loki said dryly. “I'm sure that they care that a stranger in a cafe thinks that my name is 'strange'.”

“Hold on. I never said it was a bad name,” Tony protested in an attempt to keep the conversation from derailing before it had even really started. Besides, it really wasn't a bad name. It fit him. There was an air of mischievousness about him. “ Has anyone ever told you that you're a little defensive?”

“Perhaps a little,” Loki chuckled, smoothing hair back from his angular face.

Tony didn't get the opportunity to reply as Darcy called out Loki's name and the man had already moved to pick up his order. He sent Tony another little smirk before he was out the door in a flurry of green and black. Tony felt himself deflate and went to collect his own order but not before he caught Darcy between patrons.

“Does he come here often?” he asked, feeling a little stupid that he was so fixated on someone he literally just met.

“Who? Loki?”

“Yeah, him.”

Darcy nodded a little. “Every day since we've opened our doors. I swear we get more business every time he comes in here. The tip jar really appreciates it.” She rattled the jar in question.

“You know anything about him?” Okay, he might be approaching that creeper territory now. _Bring it down a notch there, Tony._

“Nope. Just that he likes green tea and chocolate chip muffins on occasion.”

Well, he guessed he'd never know unless he wanted to play stalker and he sure as hell would have liked to avoid that slippery slope. If they did happen to cross paths again he'd be sure to actually ask for a number. He seriously felt like he'd missed an opportunity while he was awkwardly talking about food and names. Tony ran a hand through his hair, picked up his stuff, and began the short trek back to the tower where Pepper met him in the living room.

“Got back in one piece,” she said, taking her drink from him and lightly sipping it. “It took you longer than I thought it would. Busy?”

“Yeah, amongst other things,” Tony murmured, making his way down to his workshop. Hopefully tinkering around would prove to be a good distraction.

Give him a few days and he'd forget all about Loki. At least he hoped that would be the case.

* * *

 

The moment that Loki left the cafe, his smile dropped and he stared down at the white paper bag that held his scone as he walked. Today would be the day that he'd run into Tony Stark. He'd hardly been in the mood to idly chat with the man but that's exactly what happened. He didn't particularly care for the womanizing, heavily drinking, and charismatic persona that Stark presented in the past to the public but Loki wasn't one to deny an attractive face when he saw one and Stark did have one.

Loki had been half-tempted to hand him his work number just to see if he'd call it. He could probably make excellent money off of him.

Chuckling to himself, Loki got to his car and fiddled with the lock for a short moment before he got inside. How would Stark have reacted to finding out the man that he was flirting with (which is exactly what he had been doing) was a prostitute? Would he have accepted the offer or would it have frightened off should the media catch wind of it? It was hard to say which way it would have gone. Loki had been with plenty of people; some of them average in income and others hideously wealthy and more than once there had been someone that had wanted a one-night stand only to find out that they'd have to pay for it that. This lead to them panicking at the prospect of sullying their “good” reputation.

It was interesting to consider if Stark would have run for the hills as well.

Oh, well.

As he drove back his apartment, sipping on his tea, Loki's mind wandered. It was funny; if anyone had asked him a few years ago if he'd ever think he'd be in the position he was in now, he likely would have laughed in their faces. Of course, he didn't anticipate being a prostitute. No one really grew up with the ambition to get into that profession. It was more often than not one that was born out of necessity. Life was an unpredictable thing and anyone who tried to say otherwise was truly a fool.

He scoffed, shaking his head, and turned up the music on his radio as the traffic came to a grinding halt. He did hate when his mind started running.

After eleven or so hours, a short rest at home, and a shower later, Loki stood at a familiar street lamp at dusk, picking at his painted fingernails as he waited for his first client of the night to show up. The air was chilly and he was glad that he'd dressed warmly in a pair of dark jeans, jacket, and boots. He shifted his stance and stuck his hands into his pockets in an effort to keep them from getting too cold. To be honest this client was hardly worth the wait but there was an obscene amount of money in it for him. Living in New York City wasn't cheap, especially when you had tastes like he did. He supposed that he was lucky that people had an avid interest in a beautiful man with a razor-sharp wit and a talented tongue.

There had always been a level of conflict over his appearance. When he'd been with his family he'd always stood out like a sore thumb, surrounded by all of that blond, telling the entire world that he wasn't related to them. He was considered striking in his own way, but there had been a part of him that wished that he looked more like them. And then after he'd found out that he had been adopted it all suddenly made sense...

Loki let out a frustrated growl, startling a pair of young women who happened to be walking by at the time and making them move just a little bit faster. He watched them go with a sense of grim satisfaction. Let them run. He couldn't give a damn what people thought about him.

“You waiting for someone?”

The voice called out to him from a car that was just pulling up, the window open a quarter of the way. It was an expensive, luxury brand that wouldn't have looked out of place in his father's garage and left little question that this was the client he'd been waiting for. The window rolled down the rest of the way and revealed a face that was neither young nor attractive but held the promise of payment.

Loki schooled his expression into a seductive smirk meant to entice. Time for work. “I was, but it seems that I've been stood up,” he responded lowly, moving to fill the gap between himself and the vehicle. He playfully traced a finger over the window frame. “Would you be so kind as to give me a ride?”

“Of course I would. I'd hate for you to get sick in this weather.” A pair of dark eyes took in Loki's appearance with barely concealed want and their owner patted at the passenger seat. “I don't bite.”

Loki only just managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes. Playing the game got old. It was always the same. Pretend that you were perfectly innocent and that there was absolutely no exchange of money for sex happening. “If it's not too much trouble.”

“No, no trouble at all.”

He could have just punched that smug face. Oh, yes, so damn proud of himself for buying a streetwalker in public. Maybe if they were really lucky the wife would catch them going at it and shove the man off the balcony of his expensive penthouse. Hell, Loki could save her the trouble and do it himself. “Thank-you ever so much.”

He slipped around the car and into the passenger seat. No sooner had he settled down into it did a hand fall onto his thigh.

It was going to be a very long night.

* * *

 

To be completely honest, Loki was surprised that they even made it to the penthouse before his client's mouth and hands were on him, considering how handsy he'd been on the ride there. Loki had been pinned to the wall from the moment they'd gotten into the elevator.

Loki shook his head as he wiped himself down with a towel before starting to get redressed. Not far from him he could hear the heavy breathing of the man and entertained the idea of suffocating him with a pillow. He wasn't sure how much of the sweat that had been on him was his and how much of it was his client's. Loki spared the old man a disgusted glance over his shoulder.

You chose this life for yourself, he reminded himself gloomily, trying to straight out his messy hair. There will be no shortage of men such as this.

Ah, wasn't that a depressing thought.

Loki finished dressing and counted the money that he'd received. Five hundred dollars wasn't terrible. He'd already made well over a thousand that week already. He'd have money for his bills and then some. It almost made the whole ordeal worth it. Almost. He'd be scrubbing his skin red tonight just to get the stink off of him. Even then he doubted that it would be enough.

“Will we be doing this again?” the client asked, sitting up in the bed.

Loki's expression was withering and watched him cringe. “I highly doubt that. I'd have to be paid far more to put up with your terrible company again.”

And that was that. Loki stalked out, taking the stairs instead of the elevator and taking his time floor by floor. He bypassed the front desk, effectively ignoring the woman you tried to catch his attention and was out the door into the cold night air again. It was refreshing against his still warm skin as he hailed a cab and made his way back to his place to change. Client number two wouldn't be long after.

The trip back was a short one and Loki walked through the familiar entryway, the scene of cleaning products filling his nose. It wasn't the best apartment building in New York, but it served the purposes it was needed for. While he had more than enough money for a nicer place he preferred to lay low. It would be harder to be found by those he didn't want to be found by. The last thing he really needed was for them to turn up on his doorstep. While he did have expensive tastes, which filled his apartment in the form of furniture and clothing, he was aware that he would draw attention to himself if he was not careful.

It was one of the reasons why he'd grown his hair out and stuck to more casual clothing rather than nice suits that he'd worn in his previous life.

This was a bad train of thought, he reminded himself as he dumped his keys and wallet into a glass bowl sitting near the front door. He turned on the lights and carefully noted that everything was exactly where it was when he'd left it. He had no idea what he was expecting. His brother sitting on his couch perhaps, waiting to try and beg for him to return home?

No matter what he did these days, inevitably Loki's thoughts returned to everything he left behind. He'd been the one to leave his family, but they'd been the ones to push him away, forcing his hand, and choosing his existence for him even if they didn't realize that they had. Selling himself for money was what he was good at and it was as low profile as he could get. They'd never think to look for him living as a sex worker, which was the point after all.

Loki promptly shut off his thoughts and readied himself for his next client.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a bit of a delay; my life's been a bit of a mess at the moment. I actually had this chapter finished written in long hand a week ago but didn't actually have the chance to type it up until yesterday. 
> 
> Shout out to the reviews from the last chapter. I'm glad that you're all enjoying this and that my writing _has_ improved since I wrote the original story. That makes me feel a bit better.

Loki discovered in the days that followed that work proved to be a decent distraction from the meeting with one Tony Stark and his own memories. Between the clients, sleep, and the general going-ons of life, he barely thought about him. That was a good thin in his eyes, considering the man made him too introspective for his liking.

Unfortunately, as luck would have it, he couldn't avoid his existence forever. On a slow day, or more specifically a day he wanted to wipe off the calendar, hours before his first client of the night, Loki had nothing better to do than to mindlessly flip through TV channels as he waited for the clock to tick away. On one channel there was a story about Stark Industries, the woman going on about this or that about the company and what events they were planning in the future for charity. Loki was more concerned about giving the photo of Tony, dressed in a couple thousand dollar suit and smiling charmingly at the photographer. Loki, annoyed, gave him the stink-eye.

“You've got to be joking with me,” he ground out, changing the channel to some reality show. He paid no attention to it as his cell phone went off and he answered it with a sense of relief. That seemed out of line with the reason why. “Thank-God.”

He made the usual arrangements; time, day, and an exchange of names. He did it all in the most patient, seductive voice that he could muster, writing down the information in his planner. Once finished he hung up and stared at the cell for a moment before he stood and stretched, popping the joints in his shoulders.

What was he going to do in the meantime? He could go shopping. He could use more food in the apartment and he could always splurge and buy some new clothes for himself. He'd made plenty of money to pay the bills this month so he certainly had the spending money left for treating himself. Perhaps it was a tad bit excessive but it would keep his mind from wandering to places it was better it stay away from.

Loki did a few more stretches, reaching his arms up above his head then reaching down to touch the floor with his fingertips, repeating this ten times and then sitting down on the floor to do more toe reaches until he felt loosened up, tension lifted from his muscles as much as it could be.

It quickly became clear that that wouldn't be enough to keep him occupied for the remainder of the day. Loki sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“Oh, to hell with it,” he said to it.

Never mind shopping, he needed a drink.

 

* * *

 

Tony's luck wasn't much better when it came to ignoring his problems. When he wasn't working, taking his private plane to Malibu, he was usually found holed up in his workshop, tinkering with whatever he could get his hand on to pass the time and keep himself busy. Despite his best efforts, Loki's stunning green eyes somehow managed to sneak into his thoughts and mocking him.

At one point he gave up on that task and went on a walk, letting the chilly fall air clear his mind. It worked fine until he stepped back inside and found Natasha Romanoff occupying one of the couches in the reception area with her shock of red hair standing out against the black and dressed in a skirt and blazer. She might have looked harmless but little did the universe know that for all her small height, Natasha was actually a she-devil cleverly disguised as a human. Tony had witnessed her take down a grown ass man twice her size.

“Have a good walk, Mr. Stark,” she asked, not looking up from her phone.

Tony froze and looked over at her. “Yep, never better,” he said, smiling through the alarm bells at always went off whenever Nat was nearby. He figured that that was a normal reaction to a woman who could snap his neck with her pinky finger if she wanted to. “Anything interesting happening, Romanoff?”

“The usual,” she replied, typing away on her phone. Probably a hit list. “Oh, Barton should be arriving soon. He told me he wouldn't be late today.”

“That's, uh, good.”

No one was entirely sure if Natasha was dating Clint Barton and no one was stupid enough to risk asking. The two of them evidently had gone through some kind of training together and there were more than a few whispered horror stories, whether or not they were true no one wanted to test. So everyone went on their merry way, pretending they didn't know something that may potentially get them killed while they slept.

“Why are you here if it's your day off? Shouldn't you be enjoying a spa or something?” He cautiously went over to her, keeping these tales in mind.

Natasha finally looked up, smirking sardonically. “Do you really want to get rid of me that badly?”

“Just...wondering.” Would looking at her big eyes turn him to stone?

“Relax, Tony. Pepper just wanted me to look over a few things before the party.”

“Party? What party?” Had he been drinking when she'd told him? He didn't remember hearing anything about a party.

“She told you about it,” Natasha said with a barely concealed roll of her eyes, looking back at her phone. “It's for a Halloween charity event on behalf of the company.”

“Was I drunk?”

“Yes, you were.”

He figured as much. “Right, okay. Thanks, Romanoff.”

He had that to look forward to.

* * *

 

He didn't really like to drink. The few times that he decided to imbibe he kept to lighter drinks that he could nurse as he spoke to potential clients that he was entertaining that night. This day was different and admittedly wasn't entirely because of Stark, calling for something a little on the stronger side than his usual fare, liver damage be damned. Sure, he was a big reason he'd come out to the bar but he wasn't the only reason if he was honest with himself.

“Did that man really get to you that much?”

Loki sighed and cast his gaze to the woman sliding into a bar seat beside him. “Why are you bothering me, Amora?”

Amora sighed and tapped her bright green nails against the counter, considering. “And miss the chance to see you drunk off your ass? Not on your life. And besides, I seem to recall that you called _me.”_

Loki downed the shot placed in front of him with a wince. “If you must know, it's not because of Stark.”

“Oh, the anniversary.” Amora's teasing tone miraculously disappeared and she placed a hand on his arm. “In that case drowning yourself in booze won't help. It won't bring him back or change anything, Loki.”

Amora was one of the very few people that had known who he had been before he had left his old life behind. Despite this, Loki hardly knew anything about her, not even her family name. He didn't trust her as far as he could through her and yet he still confided in her. She was one of his very few friends, for better or for worse. However, right now he was half-drunk and not feeling like accepting her pity.

“Why so concerned with me all the sudden? It's not as if being nice to me with get you together with Thor.”

Amora's eyes narrowed dangerously and flagged down the bartender to order a martini. “If it weren't for the day I'd slap you for that comment. As for why I'm concerned about you, I'm always so. As much fun as it is to watch you get drunk, you're depressing me.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. That close he could smell the perfume she sprayed herself down with. Something floral and spicy. “I don't know why I put up with you.”

“I like to think it's because of my charm and wit,” Loki supplied dryly. That perfume was giving him a headache.

There was a beat of silence and then Amora tilted her head back enough to look him in the face. “Have you spoken to Thor recently? He might be an insufferable git sometimes but he does care. So does your mother.” She snorted derisively and picked up the drink that appeared in front of her. “Of course you haven't.”

Loki abruptly stood up, making Amora squeak and catch herself before she could fall off her seat. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a hundred, slapping it down on the counter. “Keep it the change,” he told the bartender before staggering towards the door.

“I'm going home. I need to walk this off,” he said to Amora as she caught up with him. He planned on canceling the job he had tonight and he was going to spend the rest of the night wallowing in self-pity.

“You aren't seriously going to walk home in this weather, are you?” Amora asked, gesturing to where the rain fell down in curtains beyond the glass of the door.

Loki shrugged and pushed it open, welcoming the chill and feeling it slowly clearing his head.

“Dumb ass,” he heard Amora mutter before he was out of earshot.

* * *

 

Tony spend his day pestering Steve at the police station of all places, sipping a cup of bad coffee. It was a more appealing option than dealing with Pepper and Natasha's conversation about the charity event that he still couldn't remember being told about. It was better to just bug off and let them handle it. Party planning wasn't exactly his area. Although he did feel a little bad for leaving Clint there to deal with the two of them together. Poor guy; dating someone who could be an assassin...

Eventually, Fury kicked him out around nine (“Go bother someone else, Stark, unless you want me to arrest you.”) and Tony assumed that it might be safe to return home. He watched the rain fall from the dark sky with a frown. Why did this fall have to be so rainy?

He was sitting at a light in his Porsche, rubbing his hands in front of the vent as he waited for the heat to kick in, when he spotted a familiar head of dark hair moving through the sea of umbrellas. He watched a for a moment, shrugged, and threw caution to the wind as he pulled up beside the sidewalk and rolled down the window. “Hey it's a little wet out here, want a lift?”

Loki stopped mid-step and turned to look at him, eyes blinking water back. “I think that I can walk on my own, Stark. I don't need your help.” He was swaying on his feet, his words just a smidgen slurred, and pushed wet hair back from his pale face. 

Someone was more than just a little drink. Did he even know which way he was going? “Just just in the car would you? I'm not going to take advantage of a drunk person.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, lips twitching, and he swayed a little more. “Oh, so were I sober you'd have no problem taking advantage of me? This is good to know.”

“You're being pedantic now.” Why did this guy have to be so damn difficult when Tony just wants to be helpful? The situation was ridiculous and doing nothing to sate his curiosity. “Cam you please just get in here so that I can take you home?”

“No, not my home,” Loki said, suddenly looking a little lost and close to passing out where he stood. He pointed a finger at Tony. “I can't have you knowing where I live, Stark.”

Tony wanted to ask why but before he could get the chance gravity won the battle and Loki fell flat on his face. Tony grimaced sympathetically. He was going to feel that one once he sobered up. Tony had had his own fair share of experience with being blackout drunk. The morning after was the worst. Sighing, he reluctantly got out of his dry car to retrieve the poor bastard on the sidewalk. The cold rain pelted him, running down his back where his coat pulled away from his neck, swearing he hoisted Loki to his feet and led him to the passenger side, depositing him there before going back to the driver's side.

“Where are we going?” Loki's head turned to look over at Tony, face slack with fatigue. “Where are you taking me?”

“Since you won't tell me where you live, I guess I'm taking to you my place.” Pepper was not going to be thrilled with him bringing back a stray, but hopefully she'd be understanding once he explained the situation. “Don't get the wrong idea. You'll be on the couch.”

“I see,” Loki said. He probably didn't, considering he was already half-asleep, pressing his head against the window, eyes closed.

The ride back was miraculously quick. Tony's impromptu guest was snoring lightly and barely audible over the sound of the rain on the windshield. It was going to be an experience trying to get his six-foot-two ass into the elevator. Tony wasn't exactly what you'd call a tall person.

“Come on, big fella, let's get you inside,” Tony murmured as he came around to the other side of the car and caught Loki before he could tumble out. Loki stood uneasily on his feet as Tony gently tried to lead him inside. “Whatever you do, please don't puke on me.”

“I make no promises,” Loki replied as he leaned most of his weight onto Tony's shoulder as he wobbled precariously.

The situation was easier once they made it into the elevator and Tony could lean Loki against the wall. It was an awkward minute as he stared at Tony with barely focused eyes, lost in thoughts Tony could only make a guess at. It wasn't much better as the reached the top and Tony dropped him on the couch.

“Sit here and try not to pass out before I get back.” Tony disappeared into his room and dug up a pair of lounge pants and a tee. When he returned he found Loki still awake and he tossed the clothes at him. “Here, these should mostly fit, you tree.”

Loki nodded and with Tony's help managed to get to the bathroom in one piece. It took him longer to get out but when he emerged he appeared more comfortable and alert. He gave Tony the barest hint of a grateful smile. “I suppose that I should thank you for helping me. You aren't nearly as heinous as I thought you would be.”

“Thanks, I think. And you're welcome.” Tony thought that he should probably be offended and also should stop staring at Loki, who looked a little too good in his clothes. To break that particular spell, he went and grabbed a trash can in the chance that Loki needed to use it, along with a pillow and blanket. “The couch is all yours for the night. Feel free to use the TV. I'll check up on you.”

Almost immediately Loki was asleep and just as quickly Tony realized that this was...going to be a problem. A big one.

* * *

 

Tony woke up the following morning to Pepper standing over him, staring at him with her arms crossed.

“What..? What did I do?” he asked, blinking away sleep before he remembered Loki's presence in the other room.

“I saw your guest. Do you want to explain him to me or would you rather I make my own conclusions?” She didn't look upset perse, just concerned, but then again it was hard to tell sometimes what she really thought. Her mask of professionalism was top-notch.

“That would be Loki, and no, nothing happened last night before you ask. I rescued him from spending a night on the pavement.” Tony slid out of bed and threw on a shirt. Well, at least he was still alive the last time he checked.

“That's something I would have expected from you.” Pepper's tone could have been mistaken for being harsh but Tony had known her for so long that he could hear the polite joking in her voice.

“Gee, thanks, Pep,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair to try and get it into some semblance of order before making a beeline for the living room, Pepper following him. Loki was still on the couch, the blanket pulled up under his chin the way it had been when Tony last checked on him. “Sleeping like an over-sized baby.”

Tony's smirk lost some of it's wattage as he spotted a sheen of sweat on Loki's forehead. He pressed a hand to it. The skin beneath was warm to the touch with a telltale fever. Great, this was turning out to be something he in no way signed up for.

“What are you going to do?” he heard Pepper ask while he stared down at Loki with puzzlement.

“Well, I can't just kick him out and hope that he doesn't die.” He should regret taking him in with all the hassle that was creeping up from his charity. He didn't always make the best life choices, but leaving someone drunk and fending for themselves hadn't seemed favorable.”I think it's safe to say he's staying here for now until he' well enough to leave or bad enough for the hospital. God, I hope he doesn't die on the couch.”

“I hardly think that he's going to die.” Pepper came up beside him, also looking down at Loki. “I can take care of things while you take care of this.”

“You're a lifesaver, Miss Potts.” He was going to hands full playing nurse and considering the fact that he brought this on himself, Tony wasn't going to ask Pepper to deal with it for him. “Do you have any tips on bringing a fever down?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual you can find me at my [tumblr](ophelia-markov.tumblr.com). Feel free to drop me a note.


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